You didn't see a white light. You didn't see a tunnel. You didn't really pick up much of anything besides the semi going through the yellow light right into your sedan. You probably would have cursed those city management planners and their uber-short yellow lights that snapped to red like a turtle on a finger, except that you didn't have time to think at all.
You blink, waving your hands around. You know that you have your eyes open, but you can't see a thing-- just a thick, misty grey haze going through everything. You try to take a deep breath. You feel your body shivering, your nerves not understanding what's going on.
"I'm falling," you whisper to yourself. Well, I can talk at least. You let out a torrent of coughs. I can think at least. Where the hell am I?
"Oh, gosh mister peachy-fur-always-on-your-hind-hooves-or-hind-paws-whatever-you-call-them-creature! Why do you have your feet on our poster?" asks a quirky, bouncy kind of feminine voice from way below you somewhere.
"Poster," you repeat. The haze seemed to fade away into clear blue sky. You strain to see, coming up with nothing more than blurry rooftops.
"And, gosh, what made you make ol' mister metal rooster so mad at you? He's poking up the side of your coat and stabbing right into you!"
"Wait just a frickin' second," you call out, putting your hands over your eyes. You peek through your fingers, trying to focus. The rooftops look like nothing you've ever seen outside of a cartoon, everything all bright and saccharine with smooth pastel colors all over. The cozy windows and shop doors mixed with perfectly trimmed hedges and clean benches seem like something out of Walt Disney Resorts.
Rooster? A motherhumpin' rooster? What the hell is she talking about? You feel wind blowing up around your arms, legs, hands, and feet. You try to swirl your body to the right.
*Creak!*
"Oh, mister-peach-fur! You don't wanna do that! Be careful!"
You glare at at a gigantic slate-gray weather-vane, made out in the style of a scowling rooster with a beak the side of a meat cleaver, as you move your hands through your coat. You suddenly feel very alone, very vulnerable. A variety of noises pop up from far beneath you, sounding like hushed chatter. You turn your head back forwards. And it hits you.
You're dangling atop a three story building.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" You scream. You start to frantically reach around the thin air for a moment. You freeze, realizing that jerking too much would be suicidal. You glance over at the rooster beak nudged deep through your pants, belt, and coat. That's everything that's between me and dying. "Or, I guess, dying again..."
"Don't worry! Pinkie's on your case! You've got nothing to worry about!"
You looked down, trying hard to focus. The sun's playing games with your eyes. Still, you can make out a large pink blob way below on the street. A variety of other colored blobs join the pink one, frittering about from side to side. They seem to be as bewildered and panicky as you. You focus a bit more on the pink girl, and then it hits you.
Those things below you aren't human.
The pink-colored girl looks a lot like a horse, but she's bouncing about more like a pogo-stick. You see a fluffy, huge mane and tail like a horse, but her face seems softer and cuddlier. You rationally know that this has to be impossible. Yet there she is, something like a cartoon character come completely to life in your eyes. And you just might owe her your life, depending on what she does.
You eye directly below you, seeing your legs kicking up against a big white poster hung over the building your on. You can make out a 'Prepare For' label on the side but nothing more. If I can only just... just reach it... You swing a little bit over, hearing the weather-wane making tiny, horrible squeaks, and you feel your legs rubbing back into the canvas.
You notice that, somehow, you've changed as well. Your skin looks softer, calmy shaded, and pastel-- with your fingers more like blocks. "I'll be damned. I do look like something carved from a peach." Your body appears like a halfway compromise between what you'd see on Wallace and Gromit and something from a photograph. You thank goodness that you still seem to be you, more or less.
"Don't worry, mister-rooster-vicitm!" Pinkie screams over. "I've got my grappling hook!"
"Grappling hook!" You repeat. You don't really like the sound of that.
"Just hold still and let me aim the little missile at you," she goes on, holding a gigantic long black tubing of some kind with spiky ridges going across it.
You take a gulp, seeing how the gaggle of ponies beneath you backed away from the whole scene.
"And the missile will just hit that little window over besides you and then give you a clear opportunity for you to grab the ring and just slide down, with nothing much to worry about," Pinkie rattled on before making a sound like a shotgun loading up a new shell.
You make a loud, embarrassingly feminine whine. You throw your hands behind your head, desperate to think of what to say. You have no idea. You watch Pinkie point the launcher right at you, and you close your eyes. "Please, Buddah, Allah, Jesus, Moses, Shiva, Barack Obama, that sea captain with the body thetans-- please-- anyone! Let me get out of this alive!"
*Bang!*
You see a variety of images flashing through your vision, feeling like an out of body experience. You watch as a huge grey projectile flies past your head and smashes into the weather-vane rooster. You feel yourself thrown into a huge circle with limbs thrown up in the air. You feel yourself coming loose, totally exposed to the thin wind just like a leaf. Your vision fills up with a thick white rope of some kind. You reach out.
Everything goes black.
You have no idea how long you spend completely out. You first sense your fingers. They've been locked in place somehow, yet you can wiggle them a lot. You suddenly feel something rubbing up against them. You get a wonderfully soft and smooth sensation, your skin nudging against someone.
"Oh, let's take that awful head-brace off of you," says an angelic sounding voice from around your chest. "You certainly won't need that, not with those x-ray results and those simple bruises."
"Oh, thank goodness, nurse," you reply. You feel bandages coming off of your hair as you lean back, smiling from cheek to cheek. "I had the most horrible dreams. I was dangling right atop this three story building."
"Huh." You feel latches being moved around your arms.
"Yeah, but that's not the weirdest part," you go on," I was in this cartoon world. I was a cartoon-like thing myself. And-- get this-- they were all ponies! They had manes, tails, flanks, hooves, and everything! Isn't that something?"
"Huh." You feel blankets curling around your chest and neck, coming off of you.
"And this one bouncy bitch, called 'Pinkie' or whatever, she went ahead and-- she freakin' shot me! She shot me!" You feel spittle coming from your mouth.
"She didn't mean to hurt you, sweetheart," replies a tender, feminine voice.
"That bitch was hopping and jumping like she was on crack or somethin'." You blink as you feel a cloth coming off of your eyes. You try to make things out, seeing nothing but a solid white blur.
"Pinkie was the one that carried you here, after all, until Fluttershy picked you up," says the voice from behind you.
You have a deep, sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You look around, and you see a room that looks like any other hospital room. A shut window with nice, blue blinds sits above a blank white end table with various plain grey chairs on the opposite wall. A set of six pieces looking like something by Thomas Kinkade, showing rustic farms with light everywhere, decorate the walls. The golden-brown door has a drawing in crayon taped onto it that reads 'House of Love' with hearts and stars under the words.
Just like the market street that you had dangled above, everything has a warm pastel shading to it. You glance down to see yourself with both legs sealed in a cast from below your thighs. Otherwise, you feel fine, incredibly.
"Nurse, I... I..."
You watch as your nurse moves over and stands in front of you. You take a deep breath. She looks like a cartoon character-- a cartoon horse, no less-- but she seems like nothing you've ever seen. You run your eyes up her slender hooves across her curvy body to a red cross mark on her flank and to her pretty, bushy light-pink tail. She turns over and locks eyes with you, frowning. She has such a brilliant white body, as perfectly spotless and blemish-less as a goddess from some renaissance artwork, as well as an incredibly beautiful face.
Her ears have drooped low, brushing up against her pink hair bun under her small white nurse's cap. Her huge eyes, such perfect sky-blue things that you could get lost in for hours, show such tender caring and concern for you. Her flushed cheeks and scrunchy expression appears absolutely adorable.
"Sir, I don't know what to say, to be honest," she matter-of-factly responds, although keeping her nurse-y tone.
"No, you," you say, hardly able to think. Come on, dude, she's a horse. She's a cartoon. Of course, that latter term doesn't mean much since you seem to be at least half-cartoon yourself. "You've done a great job. It's amazing that I fell so far and I'm just fine. You must be the most talented nurse around."
"We'll, let's not get hasty here," she replies, blushing profusely. You almost shiver at the sight. Seriously, what's wrong with you? You feel like doing a lot more than buttering her up, even though you have such mixed feelings coursing through your mind.
"Okay."
"You still need these," she says, rubbing a hoof against the two long casts around both your legs. "And you'll need these for quite a while. It's remarkable, I suppose, that your legs took pretty much the whole brunt of your whole fall. Celestia's blessing, in a way."
"There's a lot worse that could happen," you say, "I could be dead. Again, too. I'm sure that the second time would suck even more, or at least that's what late night cable would tell me. I'm lucky that I didn't end up as a freakin' sea cucumber."
"You've been dead?" she asks, walking over right to your side with a very concerned expression. She rubs her hoof against your hand, your fingers instinctively holding her fur. "Oh, my goodness, that's horrible! It's not something I've heard about these humans coming her before!"
"It was less, uh, bad then,uh, you would think," you say, fumbling for a response, "being dead." You feel a sea of questions flowing around in your subconscious. One of them immediately pops right up to the surface. "But what did you say?" You lean over in your bed, nudging closer to her. "There's more humans here?"
"Oh, lots," she comments, throwing her head back and suppressing a giggle. "Of course, they can't stay very long, lest they get transmogrified into something nasty or so Twilight tells me."
"Trans--" you begin to say. You feel yourself shivering from head to toe.
"Oh, relax, sweetheart," she says, putting her body over you and holding you a little to calm you down. You almost want to scream out in sheer happiness from feeling her so close to you. "Princess Celestia has a whole process for these sorts of things. Humans pop in, they get accommodated to our world, they get de jure visa status with the same rights as our Equestrian citizens, they get placed into jobs and new housing, and so on and so forth." She leans over and kisses you on the forehead.
Ripples of sheer pleasure blow through your body. You pant for a second before trying to right yourself, trying your best to calm down. I just met her. I don't even know her name. What the hell is with me?
"It's a good thing that your arms and hands are okay," she says, leaning over to a side table to your far left, "that means that you can get started on this paperwork."
*Thud!*
You make a small moan as you eye the huge stack of papers sitting atop your lap. "Uhhh... what is all that, anyways?"
"Security forms," she says as she flips through the pages, "background information that you have to read about Equestria, aptitude exams, checks about your background, and... well... it's pretty much administrative for Twilight Sparkle's purposes more than anything, to be honest." She scratches her neck with a hoof, looking sheepish. You seize a random page within the stack.
Have you ever committed the act of public urination?
[Yes] [No]
Have you ever urinated on someone else for the purposes of your own entertainment?
[Yes] [No]
"So, if I accidentally peed in my shorts when I got bounced through time and space over there, that would mean that you'd boot me to the moon or something?" you ask, snickering.
She chuckles, and she shakes her head 'no'. She leans over and picks up a tray from behind you with her mouth.
"Can it wait?" you ask.
She nods, sliding the stack off your lap onto the side table as she gives you a tray with a huge plate. You eye the scrambled eggs soaked in syrup resting besides a set of potato cakes with creamed corn dotted along the sides. You notice a knife and a fork alongside a tall glass of milk.
"This is way, way more normal than I expected for, uh, ponies," you comment.
She opens her mouth to say something, but a look of apprehension comes over her face. "It's-- it's--" She takes a little breath. "Well, my patient, it's--" She stops. "Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't say 'my patient'. So rude of me, I've never asked you your name."
You give your name.
"Nurse Redheart."
The words echo through your mind. Goodness, she's got the perfect name. She has the perfect body. She's got the perfect personality. She has to have one lucky... pony husband. Or pony boyfriend. Whatever. You know you've got butterflies crawling inside your insides, and you keep trying to hold it all back. "I didn't ask yours, so I guess we can both be, uh, uncouth together, darling." You put on a fake posh accent with a feminine brush for that last comment.
She chuckles. "That was such a perfect Rarity that she'd freak if she was here."
Is she a super easy mark for laughs? Or maybe she just likes me! Likes me! Gosh, I hope it's the latter. Even if she has hooves, it's a miracle to find a feminine anything that tolerates your presence. You pick up a hunk of eggs with your fork.
"It's silly, but," she begins, pulling up a chair and sitting down besides you. She rests her hooves against your arm, and her touches feel so good that you almost want to pinch yourself. "But, I kept on calling you 'Peaches' when I was operating."
"Peaches?" you repeat, in the midst of cutting through the eggs and potato cakes. Dying followed by almost dying really brought out your appetite.
"Pinkie Pie kept on referring to you as something like that-- as 'peach-fur' or 'peaches-creature' or 'peaches-guy'. I guess she thought you look softer, lighter, and more blushy than the other humans she had seen. She said 'Peaches' so much that I just wrote it everything. I even put it on your chart." She shows you the clipboard, and you smirk.
"Peaches it is, my dear Miss Redheart," you reply. You find yourself trying to sound more masculine, more assertive.
"Oh, that..." Redheart's voice lowers, and she idly pokes the tray against your lap. You see her face drooping. "Only he used to call me 'my dear Miss Redheart'."
"He?"
"Caramel just... just..." She suddenly throws her head against your chest, starting to cry. You have no clue what to do. You instinctively reach down to keep the tray from spilling all over her, moving it down along your legs. "I couldn't take it. I seriously couldn't. I still can't take it."
"It's okay," you say, cradling her close. You hate yourself for enjoying this so much, having her body against yours brings such sheer joy even though you wish it was from other circumstances.
"It's not okay," she moans. "I guess. Well, it is okay. I can deal with it. It's just been so hard. I'm not... I know it's crazy, for a mare like me." She tosses a hoof around her head. "In my position, you'd think I'd cycle through coltfriends like napkins. But I'm not like that at all." She leans back, rubbing her hooves along your arms. You eye her teary face, seeing her so vunerable. "I'm not like that all!"
She smacks you in the chest with a hoof. You let out an 'oof', not expecting such a strong hit. She sits back in her chair, trying to take sense of it all.
"Caramel was the love of my life. Weeks and weeks, all this time spent together, and then-- it just collapsed. It wasn't so bad that he left me." She sniffs, wiping her face. "It's that he left me for a stallion." She throws her head back. "And for a stallion that three-ways with a human male with him!"
"Oh, dear God," you mutter. You feel as if those last two sentences had boiled your brains.
"I'm sorry," she says, suddenly snapping back to nurse-y attention. You see the tears have totally vanished from her face, and she has the same caring expression as when you had first saw her. "I shouldn't have just dumped on you. I guess it's because I haven't had anyone to talk to in a very long time. And you're a fresh face. You said what Caramel always said, and you said it in his voice--" She coughs awkwardly, trying to hold back emotions. "I'm alright. I really am."
"Don't worry," you say, trying to sound as caring as possible. You know that you've blown moment after moment to really emotionally reach the girl of your dreams-- whether meeting her in class, at work, in a Chili's, at the bus stop, or anywhere else-- and you feel totally determined not to blow it this time. "You know, if you just want to talk. I'm right here." You wiggle your legs, rubbing the casts against your bed. "I'm not going anywhere else."
She giggles. "Right. Thanks--" She hesitates. "Thanks, Peaches."
"Thanks."
"I need to go talk with Twist for a moment, now," she says, stepping over towards the door. "Just go ahead and finish your dinner." She leans up against the door for a moment, looking apprehensive. "This sort of dinner is okay with you, right?"
"Of course," you reply, finishing off the potato cakes, "why wouldn't it be?"
"It's just that--" She rubs her hooves together anxiously. "We've had a lot of problems with you humans before. Lots and lots of problems for human males with your sort of build in your age group, I should say."
You don't like that sound of that. Not. At. All.
"We ponies, we don't... we don't kill..." She says, looking over at your suspicious expression. You see that she's rehearsed this before, having dealt with "You can have all the eggs you want. All the honey. All of the milk. All of the potatoes, peas, corn, broccoli, and that sort of thing. But you can't--" She sniffs. "Those 'cheeseburgers' and those 'chicken nuggets' that you have in your world, we don't have that here. Especially your, your--" Her voice goes to a whisper. "Your 'horse meat'."
"Oh, my God," you whisper. You see her waiting, looking up at you as she sits besides the door. She seems almost like the lonely girl at the dance, just waiting at the wall for the right angel prince charming to choose her. "There's nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. This is great." You see her light up. "I'm sure that there's all kind of differences between here and home, but I promise that I'll do everything I possibly can to help out here. I'll respect everything. I really promise."
"Thanks, Peaches."
"Thanks, Nurse Redheart." You see her leave, the door closing gently behind her. With her long gone, you lower your voice, feeling an aching going through your heart. "I love you, Nurse Redheart."
You finish your meal, waiting and just gazing at the wall. You don't know if they've got you on some kind of fancy magical pony stuff of what, but you've got a hazy, happy sensation all through you. You wonder if that's nothing more than meeting Redheart for the first time. You feel really tired though, more tired than you'd think.
Your eyes start to droop. Time passes by, and you can hardly tell. It's already some kind of nighttime, given the closed blinds and the nothingness behind them, and you don't care much.
"Notsta worry, jes' me, Thwist," says a perky, lisp-filled voice as the door opens. You keep your eyes half-closed, waving idly at the pony coming in. She looks a lot like Pinkie only paler and smaller. You don't really know, and you don't care to find you. You hear the pony making happy sounds as she grabs the tray and something else before heading out the door. You slip off into dreamland.
You wake up, feeling yourself drifting slowly back into consciousness. You remember every last little bit of your dreams, and you know why. You had just repeated everything that had happened again, rewinding and slowing down each glorious moment. Redheart's smile, Redheart's hooves on your chest, Redheart's hooves on your hands, Redheart's tears dripping onto your neck, and everything else stuck inside your heart and mind like metal to a magnet.
You suddenly become conscious of something wet and sticky against your body. You glance downwards, and you spot it immediately. You have a small but totally noticeable stain in the middle of your shorts. You feel it rubbing up against your member. You cringe, wanting to kick your cast-covered self to pieces.
"She'll see that and it'll, it'll..." you mutter, trying not to cry, "and that's it. It's over. It's all over. She'll lose it. There goes our friendship, or what we had at least had the beginnings of." You always do this, don't you? You always ruin everything! The hotter the girl, the worse you screw it up!
Your eyes dart from left to right, up and down, and all around the room. You suddenly spy a box of tissues from against the wall a couple feet way. You lean over, feeling your cast-covered legs knocking against the bed. Just a little bit closer! Dammit! You lean over, trying not to fall out of the bed. Your fingers nudge against the tip of the box, not quite reaching. Come on!
"Good morning, Peaches," Nurse Redheart says, coming through the door with a huge, angelic looking smile on her face. She carries a tray of breakfast delicately along her back.
"Great to see you," you reply. You try not to stare at the splotch between your legs. Maybe she won't notice. Oh, please, let she not notice!
She leans over and slides the tray over your lap. You breathe easy, thinking that you're out of the woods. "So, Peaches, let's talk about things. About what your life was like back on your other planet." She makes such a sweet, wonderful expression that even looking at her feels like a kiss.
"Sure!"
"Oh, no, the bandages at the tip of your right leg got messed up," she says, seeing where you'd ground it against the bed as you reached for the tissues. "Let me help you with that."
Damn, the irony! "Hang on, just a moment." You reach over to stop her, but you're too late. She's moved the tray over to your belly and she's looking right at your shorts, eyes narrowing on your late night sticky something.
"Oh," she says. She makes a soft chuckle.
You blush, hardly knowing what to say.
"We're you afraid of..." she begins, and she full-on laughs. "Oh, Peaches, sweetheart-- I've seen a lot worse than that in my time here."
You feel totally silly. Of course, she wasn't going to freak out. She's your nurse, for crying out loud!
"I have a new set of clothes from Rarity's boutique to give you after breakfast, anyways," she says. She pauses, putting on an almost devious looking smile. "If you don't mind, I--" She perches herself over the side of the bed and wags her flanks a little bit. "I'd like to know who."
"Who?"
"Who's the human girl that you were thinking of?" she asks. She blushes profusely, head sliding to the side. "Oh, I know it's so private. I understand if you don't want to talk about it. Your girlfriend back on your planet? What's she like?"
You know that you can't lie to her. You suck at lying anyways, but now-- in this place-- you couldn't even try. You take a deep breath.
"You."
"What?"
You lean forwards, drinking in her enormous, beautiful eyes. She looks back up at you, her face going totally blank. "I was thinking about you. All about you."
"Oh, Peaches," she whispers, leaning back and sitting on the floor besides you.
"I... I know it's weird. I..." you start to say. You fade out, having no idea to say. What can I say?
"Peaches," she says, this time with an almost melodic tone to her voice. You watch as she rises up, putting on a huge smile. She walks over to the side of the bed. Before you can even think, she's ambled up and sat upon the edge besides your legs.
"Nurse Redheart, I..."
"Sunny." She steps over along your lap, with her body right on top of hers, and she puts a hoof to your mouth. You can't believe what's happening, you're gazing right into her adorable face just inches from yours.
"Oh, sunny," you whisper, and your hands rub up against the back of her neck, going into her cuddly, smooth mane.
"When I was a little filly, I always dreamed that when I grew up and got married-- I'd have a big brick house at the top of a hill with three big apple trees. And my husband and I would look out at the window of our bedroom every day, and he'd turn to me and call me 'sunny'. Because, in his heart, I would always be his sunshine."
"Sunny," you repeat, and tears start to bead up in your eyes.
"Peaches," she says, and she leans over to kiss you. It seems so totally overwhelming. You feel a torrent of thoughts going through your head. This can't be real. She's a freakin' horse, how could you possibly want a freakin' horse! It can never work with you and someone so beautiful, a perfect ten! This is all a hallucination. You're in a human, pony-less hospital getting operated on as you dream these things. You try your best to shove it all into the corner of your mind.
Your lips lock against hers. You feel her hooves rubbing down your chest, digging into your skin, and you hear her start to moan. You lean back, seeing her leave a saliva trail along your neck as you break the kiss.
"I... I..." you mutter. "It's so fast... we haven't even had our first date yet."
"Nopony," she replies, crying with tears starting to stream down her face, "ever called me 'Sunny' like that before and meant it. Not even Caramel. He made it sound like an escort's handle or something. Nopony ever did." She leans over, prepared to kiss you once again. "Nopony... but you did, Peaches."
You know that you should say something. You have to say a profound thing, which would seal the deal forever. You can't come up with any other words than those classic, simple three. "I love you."
"I love you," she repeats.
She kisses you, and you thrust your hands behind her head, pulling her in. You make out as you both groan, both of you feeling shot after shot of sheer bliss going straight through your bodies. Kiss becomes kiss, and she moves down around your neck, decorating your skin with her gentle touches. You kiss along her cheeks, taking in her smooth fur. You feel her hooves going down your shirt over to your shorts.
She shoves your shorts and boxes down to your casts, and you feel your manhood going up inside of her fluffy tail. You can't believe the strange, wonderful sensations. Tingles of pleasure ripple along your skin. She kisses you over and over again, your tongues going into each other's mouths with total abandonment. You dig your fingers into her sides, just loving that contrast between your skin and her soft fur.
She nudges herself backwards against your crotch. You feel her grinding against your manhood, and you groan loudly. You almost feel like creaming right then and there. Her hooves rub up against your arms, enjoying that contrast as much as you do, and you pull her even closer. She lets out a gasp.
She positions her body back, her flanks resting perfectly above your throbbing manhood. You know that you have to make this work, that you can't just rut her by totally losing control, and you vow to make her feel just as good as you. Your fingers move down along her sides to her belly, making little dances against her fur. She giggles, feeling pleasure coursing through her from every last inch of your touch, and you plant countless kisses against her neck.
Your fingers reach down to her marehood, right between her legs, and you feel her folds going right over you. She pants as she shivers, her hooves going up to the sides of your head. You slide your fingers up and down her slit, with her immediately becoming soaking wet, and you clutch upwards against a small nub.
She screams, her tail curling up and going all across your crotch. You know that you've found exactly what you needed. She knows too, and she raises her lips a few inches back. You feel your thing nudging against the bottom of her slit, and you let out a huge gasp.
She shoves herself down. You buckle in place, wave after wave of sheer pleasure slamming into your mind. You feel her hooves grinding along your belly, and your left hand curls back to her flank, palm on her cutie mark, while your right hand keeps on rubbing her slit. She makes a torrent of feminine whines, her head tossing from side to side.
You slide your hips back, and she pops herself upwards off of you. She slams back down again, both of you feeling jolts of sheer bliss boiling through your insides. She pumps hard, going off on you without a care. You feel your mind soaring off to heaven as she moves.
And she looks so beautiful. Her tail, her mane, her hooves, her emotionally-thrashed face, and every single inch of her is absolutely perfection. You just want to scream out how lucky you are, showing that better than your wildest dreams have come true. But, instead, you just make a low, animal-like rumble. She pounds you, and you pound her back.
Your fingers keep dancing around her clitoris as you move. She seems to hardly be able to breathe. Her hooves bump off of you and wave in the air, with her riding you faster and faster. You keep on massaging her soaking wet button, and you can sense the spasms going like electricity right through her system.
She's gotten very close. You've gotten very close. You feel her building up a loud moan, growing ever louder. You know you'll just about run right over the line, and you throw your body forwards.
You embrace that beautiful mare in every way you can. You lock your free arm around her back, pulling her over with your face on her shoulder and hers on yours. Her flanks envelop you as you feel her long, flowing tail circling around your body. Her tail feels like some kind of emotional wedding ring as she wraps it around you.
She screams. You feel her juices flowing upon your crotch. You press yourself forwards, taking her inside all the way to the base, and you release yourself as well. And you enter heaven. Thousands of explosions of pure, total bliss go off across your body. She feels it too, and her tears of joy drip down onto your neck.
Finally, she leans over and lies right besides you on the hospital bed. You gaze upon each other, both of you panting hard yet still making big smiles. You glance down, and you see her pretty pink slit dripping sticky white film against your belly. You put both arms around her, and she rests her head upon your chest.
"You know," you say, running your fingers through her mane, "you told me that certain humans, if they get lucky and if they behave right, get visas to stay here. Have a job and a nice house."
"Mmmm-hmmm..."
"I was wondering. I had this great idea of getting a tall brick house on the top of a hill." You gaze at her adorable face. "You know, I could have some apple trees around it. And, best of all, I could wake up every morning and look out the bedroom window, taking in the whole scene with some special someone."
"Mmmm-hmmm..."
"Doesn't that sound nice? I just need to find that someone."
Nurse Redheart leans up, lets out a happy sigh, and she kisses you on the cheek.
The End
